


Miscommunication Olympics

by Blinster



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blinster/pseuds/Blinster
Summary: After their heartfelt confessions about liking each other, Otis leaves Maeve to walk home with Elsie alone, giving her plenty of time to think about what he said.Turned himself inside out? Yeah right.Or how, sometimes, things need to get worse so they can get better.This story starts from that moment in the series, and deviates from there.
Relationships: Otis Milburn/Maeve Wiley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 99





	1. Breakdown

Maeve was angry. Seething. That lying bastard! A part of her didn't believe he would do this, but a bigger part was smugly pointing out she should've expected the disappointment by now. She was just here for confirmation, and then she could cut him out of her life, like all the other ballast dragging her down.

Otis closed his locker, and was surprised by the person leaning against the locker next to him, glaring at him. Maeve looked a little angry.

"Bastard."

On second thought, she looked a lot angry. "What? Why?"

"Did you get a kick out of it? Having a girl be vulnerable and confess feelings for you?"

"No? I mean, of course it's nice to hear, but -"

“Right,” she barreled on. "I had some time to think yesterday, when I was walking home after you abandoned me with Elsie at school. You say you liked me, turned yourself inside out. Heart breaking stuff. Really got to me. But, oh wait, that liking me would've been at the same time you told Jackson how to get me. Those things can't both be true. One of them's a  _ lie _ , Otis, and I know the Jackson thing is true. So you. Were.  _ Lying _ ."

"I wasn't! Well... I mean, yes, I did  _ technically _ help Jackson, and maybe I wasn’t telling… the  _ whole _ truth... but I didn't -"

"That's what I thought." The confirmation had Maeve screaming inside. How did she never see this? He wasn't cute or awkward, he was just making excuses! "So when I spoke to you yesterday, opened up to you, did you figure you had me where you wanted me, time to rub it in, humiliate me, maybe get angry for a bit, make me feel bad, see how far you could get!?" By the end she was nearly shouting, but she didn't care.

Otis felt completely railroaded by the conversation, and started responding in kind. " _ Yes _ , I did get angry! You can't just -"

She didn’t want to hear any more. She was done with this conversation. "I can't believe you, Otis. Truly a wolf in sheep's clothing. You're despicable. Don't talk to me again."

Otis doesn't talk to her again, but he can't help but feel something precious had just been twisted inside of him.

* * *

Ola and Otis are arguing, more every week.

The entire school's following it like a soap opera. New episodes are almost daily now! Their resident all-knowing therapist has stumbled and they're all watching with bated breath to see if he'll make a save or fall off his pedestal. It's especially fascinating because the snippets of fights the collective student body is able to piece together show the source of the arguments is his 'field of expertise', his bedroom performance. Juicy!

This last argument seems particularly brutal. They're in the middle of the hallway, starting with a whispered conversation but ending with forceful, frustration-filled phrases. Everyone around them is avoiding eye contact, but also not-so-subtly listening in and relishing in every overheard word.

"You can't put all the blame on me! A relationship takes two, takes effort, and if there's a problem, we just need to work it out, together."

" _ If _ there's a problem?! Otis, I have been trying to  _ work it out _ with you for months now.  _ You _ don't work with  _ me _ . Every time we try something intimate, it's like you hit a concrete wall at full speed. Then you just apologize, making  _ me _ feel bad, and then you clam up even further. This past week, we haven't exchanged more than pleasantries, movie choices, and scheduling arrangements. You never let me know what's really going on in your head. It's frustrating as hell! Besides, Lily told me I'm not the first you're disappointing in the bedroom. And the common element is you, Otis. So, in fact, I  _ can _ blame you. You need help, and I have tried, but I just can't, won't be the one suffering your deficiencies any longer."

Ola hadn’t planned to vent so much, let alone break up in a school hallway, but she felt relieved, as if a stress factor was removed from her life. She was done with Otis, and it felt great.

Otis looked around, and saw all the students surreptitiously checking for his reaction. He felt like he’d just been punched in the stomach, but he also felt like he didn’t deserve that. And he definitely felt like it was none of the other students’ business. He headed to the old toilet block. Maybe he’d get some privacy there.

* * *

The rumor was all over school in fifteen minutes. Sex kid got dumped, and apparently wasn't even able to get it working in the bedroom. It gave Maeve a vindictive sense of satisfaction. She didn't buy into the whole bedroom issues story, she knew from the pool that Otis had no problems there. She suspected Otis hurt Ola the same way he hurt her, and Ola was making up the story to get back at him. She felt bad for Ola though, obviously another victim of Otis' fake good guy image.

Maeve sat down next to Ola in the library. "So Otis showed his true colors to you too, huh?"

Ola slightly turned away, lifting her book up. "Don't talk to me."

"What? Don't be mad at me, you should be mad at him?"

Ola sighed. "I  _ am _ mad at him. And at you. I can be both."

Maeve felt the conversation heading off course. "What have I done, then?"

Ola took a deep breath, but managed to keep her voice calm and even. "I'm not helping you two sort your shit out. I'm angry, remember?"

"I'm not asking you to sort anything! I wanted to commiserate, you know, pain shared is pain halved, all that? We shouldn't take it out on each other. What have I ever done to you?"

Ola lost her calm and even voice, and exploded. "You completely fucked him up, is what you did! Must be nice, get tired of the school jock, look twice at a new boy and he's ruined for everyone else! Go find another boy to break, and never talk to me again." Ola stood up, and marched out of the library.

Maeve sat back, slightly stunned, looking at the door Ola disappeared through. That did _ not _ go like how she'd imagined it. What was _ her _ problem?

* * *

Jackson smirks, the next time Otis runs into him. "Hey Otis! Heard about your troubles. That's really too bad, man. I thought you were this wise, little mum man, but turns out you're even more fucked up than the rest of us. You know, it's strange, in a sense you’re still helping me. Helping me feel better about myself, that is. And who knows, maybe now that you've obviously botched it, Maeve and I will give it another go. We always did have this passionate  _ chemistry _ , if you know what I mean?"

Jackson almost leers when he says all this, and Otis wonders how long Jackson has been waiting to let out this... resentment. Where did this come from? Had it always been there? Jealousy from when Maeve and Otis were close, and Jackson wanted that too? Did it start when Maeve suddenly dropped Jackson? Or was this his form of retaliation, a weird form of feeling protective after Maeve being hurt lately, assuming like everyone else that Otis had done something despicable to her?

"Cheer up, though," Jackson continues, "I'm sure you'll find someone just as bad at sex as you are." He pats Otis on the arm as if sending a toddler on his way, and takes off.

Otis sighs. He had noticed the other kids being a bit more… jeering, since his falling out with first Maeve and then Ola. He understood. Jackson was obviously just trying to be hurtful, but there was a core of truth in there. He had played at something he was not, with the clinic, with Ola, and especially with Maeve. Kids liked his advice, but they loved seeing him put back in his place. This bit from Jackson was the worst, and by far the most personal and hurtful. He couldn't deny Jackson had known exactly which buttons to press: he did miss his little interactions with Maeve, and something inside ached each time he thought about the chance he had missed. He trudged to class, taking a seat near the back.


	2. Freefall

The party is winding down, and Otis and Eric sit on the terrace of Otis’ house, overlooking the valley, watching the sun come up.

"First party at your house, tons of people, lasting until the morning. Otis, I’m so proud of you!" Alcohol makes Eric more elated, if such a thing is even possible.

Otis surveys the house behind them. "My mum will kill me when she gets back. It was supposed to be a small gathering to cheer me up, Eric."

"It's normal! Teens and parents! Puberty, man!" Eric laughs. Apparently alcohol also makes him talk in half sentences.

Otis gets up and walks around the table towards the house. "I'll start cleaning up, see if I can hide the worst of the mess before clients arrive." For once, he's thankful his fear of losing control means he doesn't drink alcohol. He wonders why he ever thought this was a good idea. Trying to get back some of the status he had lost with the end of the clinic? Trying to move on? Trying to forget? Whatever the reason, it looks stupid in the morning light. He grabs a bin and starts collecting the empty and half-empty bottles strewn all over the place.

"Otis, wait."

Just by Eric’s changed, suddenly less elated tone, Otis can tell he’s not going to like this. He stops, but doesn't turn around. "What?"

"You're not going to like this, and I should've said earlier, but... I invited Maeve to your small gathering."

That she never showed up is left unspoken. Otis squeezes his eyes shut for a second, his shoulders tense, and that tells Eric everything, tells him that Otis is hurt she didn't show up. 

Otis keeps his voice perfectly level when he replies, "Well, since I didn't know you invited her, I didn't expect her, so I guess it's good you didn't tell me."

"I don't know man, seems it could have cleared the air, maybe do some good?"

Otis sighs, "I don't think there's a lot of good left to be had between Maeve and I.” He’s only gathered a handful of bottles, but escapes to the kitchen anyway.

* * *

Otis takes days to process the camping trip with his dad. There's a lot of baggage, and Otis doesn't really like what he's unpacking.

In his own mind, he had always been the good guy. The good guy, doing the good thing.

He had always known, on some level, that it isn’t always clear what the right thing is, exactly, and that the right thing doesn't always just give everybody what they want. Even classic villains think of themselves as in the right, don’t they? But that just made him proud that he didn't always make the selfish choice, that sometimes he did things that were good for most, but not for him.

Now it turned out that that wasn’t always true. That, sometimes, he was the shitty guy, doing the shitty thing.

Even though he doesn’t like to admit it, he realizes he should have found a more ethical way to run the clinic. Looking back, he clearly knew,  _ felt _ it was wrong, even back then. He had let his desire for doing something he was good at, something that made him feel better about himself, override his own ethics. The ethics that he, as a son of two therapists, knew longer than he could remember.

He should have fought harder against Jackson's pressure, tried harder to do the right thing. He could’ve just told Maeve what Jackson was asking, but that hadn’t even occurred to him.

He should never have started anything with Ola. He had wanted a relationship so bad, wanted to get some experience, that he hadn't really cared who it was with. Sure, he liked Ola, but there wasn’t anything more than that. He should have seen that wasn't fair to Ola, to his mum and Jakob, and in the end even to himself.

He should have been more understanding of his mum, seen the stress and demands he put on her. He never talked to her anymore, treating her like she owed him care and attention, instead of treating her like she did these things out of love, and be thankful for it. It was unfair of him to demand she put her life on hold, demanding all her attention for himself.

When he sees Maeve steamrolling her opponents in the televised quiz final, he feels proud. Not proud of what  _ he _ accomplished, but proud of what  _ she _ 's accomplishing. She's realizing her potential, despite all the obstacles, despite the entire deck of cards stacked against her, despite all the people dragging her down, and she's doing it right in front of his eyes, on live television.

He grabs his fresh perspective and the positive feelings, and calls her cell before he loses this spark again.

* * *

Eric is exuberant, all excitement and rock solid faith in a good outcome. They’re riding their bikes to school, and Eric can’t stop himself from babbling, going over the situation over and over again, after Otis gave him the outline of the message he left for Maeve.

"Stop worrying, Otis. It’s simple! Either she'll respond badly, and you move on. Plenty more fish in the sea. Scary fish, too, because apparently that's your thing. You will remember, because I will remind you every single day, that you are sixteen and this is not the end of your life.”

“ _ Or _ ! She'll respond well, you two will have a super romantic reunion and a beautiful kiss scene like in the movies and you'll be my beloved cupcake Otis again.”

“Either way, you can stop being depressed, Otis. The hard part is over! You confessed your feelings! I'm so proud of you, man!"

She doesn't respond positively. She doesn't respond negatively, either. She doesn't respond at all. She frowns at him when she catches him staring a bit too long, but walks the other way.

After three days of gnawing radio silence, Otis catches up to her at the end of the school day.

She sighs. "Lost something, Milburn?" It's not meant as a joke. She really is tired of him.

Otis almost folds there, but has spent too long wondering to stop now. "I just figured we could talk, at least clear things up?"

"What's there to clear up? Look, I'm not angry anymore, but you still humiliated me. Nothing's changed. And I asked you not to talk to me."

Otis stays behind, crumbling inside.


	3. Rock Bottom

"Mum, can we talk?"

Jean takes a second to reply. She's noticed that lately, Otis isn't doing too well. Silent, withdrawn, and quick to anger. She's wanted to talk to him, but was concerned he'd shut her out further, after her previous… missteps. She hopes that this talk means that is changing now. "Sure. What would you like to talk about?"

"Since the camping trip, I've been doing a lot of thinking. And one of the things I'm thinking is that I have been unfair to you. I should not have asked you to put your life on hold for me, with Jakob and with my behavior in general. I apologise."

Again, Jean takes a few seconds to process before answering. This is unexpected, but encouraging. "I thank you for your apology. If I may ask, what happened during the camping trip to spark such introspection?"

"Well, dad got drunk, got us lost, fought a tent like it was a person, and then slept with the receptionist. He didn't come here to see you or me, but because he had no other place left to go. He hurts the people he loves with his behavior, and I have realized I am scared of becoming like him in that way."

That was… a lot at once. She decided to respond to what seemed the main point. "Otis… No one is perfect. Everyone does things they regret at some point. What matters is your intentions. And I don't believe your father's, nor your, intentions are ever to hurt anyone."

"But that's the thing, isn't it!” Otis replies, starting to pace. “Dad doesn't _intend_ to hurt us, but we're still hurt! He's an asshole not because of his intentions, but because he doesn't consider us before doing whatever he wants! I didn't _want_ to hurt Maeve, but she's still hurt! And that makes me an asshole, too."

Jean is surprised by the intensity behind Otis' outburst. "Okay. Let's take a breath.” She gives him a look, and he knows what it means. He stops pacing, and sits down.

She can tell he’s still agitated, by the way he’s fidgeting with his hands and fingers, but at least he’s aware of it now, and trying to contain it. “Can you tell me who Maeve is?"

Otis doesn’t understand why the conversation is suddenly him trying to convince his mum that he’s an asshole, but it's happening anyway. "That's another thing I need to tell you. I ran a paying sex clinic at school until recently."

Jean feels a bit blindsides by the jump in topic, and by the new topic itself. She’s a mother before she’s a therapist, and she reacts accordingly. "What? Otis! That's highly unethical! You get a decent allowance. I'd hate to think what you need more money for…"

"Mom! I'm not using drugs!" He sighed. "It wasn't for the money."

"Why did you do it, then?"

Otis focuses on his newfound attempt at maturity, and continues honestly. "Because sometimes I can really help people with it, and that helps me be more confident. And because I wanted to spend more time with Maeve. And she _does_ need the money."

Jean figures this Maeve sounds like a bad influence, but asks about her in a roundabout way. "Would you still charge for sessions if she didn't need the money?"

"Probably not. But there wouldn't be a clinic if she didn't need the money, so that's doesn't matter."

Jean files away in her head that Maeve is the instigator. "So tell me about this Maeve, you've never mentioned her before? I thought you were with Ola?"

"Ola and I broke up."

Oh no, Jean thinks, he cheated, just like his father. No wonder he's afraid of being like him. And another bombshell bit of news. She really has been out of his life. "Because of Maeve?"

"No. Well, yes, but… Ola and I broke up because I frustrated her with my… poor bedroom performance, and my unwillingness to work through that with her."

Jean has about ten thoughts at once about that statement, both as a very curious mother and as a professional sex therapist. She pins them all for later, and refocuses. Did this Maeve character get her hooks in him, then? "So you're with Maeve now?"

"What? No! No. Maeve is…” Otis sighs again, finally stopping his fidgeting. “Maeve is amazing. She needs the money, she doesn't have it easy, but she cares, too. Remember when I didn't make it to go see Hedwig with Eric? The real reason is Maeve and I were helping a girl with a case of slut shaming and blackmail. And she didn't want money for that case." He briefly closes his eyes. "Maeve is... the girl I love. I sent her a voicemail explaining how I felt about her, all-in honesty. Then, I went to see her but she wasn't there. Then, after a few days, I tried talking to her at school. She doesn't think there's anything worth talking about. She doesn't want to speak with me at all. She won't even look at me, mum…" Otis starts fidgeting again, gets up, but doesn’t have any place to be, so he heads for a quick exit. "I'm going to bed."

"Okay, Otis. Get some sleep. But this conversation isn’t finished. We will talk more about this in the morning."

“Ok, mum. Goodnight," Otis calls, already halfway up the stairs.

Jean thinks about everything she’s learned. There’s obviously a lot she missed out on in her son’s life lately. Remi certainly has a lot to answer for. How could a camping trip cause her son to so profoundly lose faith in his father? And this Maeve character sounds like bad news. Pushing her son to start a completely unethical sex clinic, and who knows what _she_ needs the money for, coming between Eric and him, coming between Ola and him, then shooting him down as soon as he shows true interest. And now her son has a broken heart. It certainly explains the silent, withdrawn, angry Otis she’d seen the past few weeks.

* * *

Aimee didn’t expect anyone in the old toilet block, so she pauses when she sees Otis just sitting there, looking sad. She swallows her first question, and after a second she asks, "Are you taking up smoking now? Most people who come here do it for a smoke."

Otis got up. "No. I'll find somewhere else to be, don't worry."

"You're annoying, Otis Milburn." Her tone is not hurtful when she says this, just pensive.

Otis sighs. "Go ahead, pile on."

"No, seriously. I usually get people, but you're not so easy. I figured you were a really good guy. I know you didn't do the clinic for the money. And you cared enough to find the awesome girl behind Maeve's attitude.

But now you've hurt her so many times, and she's convinced you're the devil incarnate."

Otis feels his heart shrink just a little bit, again, but just murmurs, defeated, "You can think what you like."

"And I also thought you'd be a freak in the sack."

Otis chokes on thin air and starts coughing.

"No, like, totally repressed but once you get there, no stopping the pleasure master. But now I heard you left first Lily and then Ola very frustrated many times. That's not very nice, you know."

"How do you know?"

"Girls talk, Otis."

"I couldn't get hard." he mumbles.

"What was that?"

Otis’ voice grows louder. "I couldn't get hard, okay? Is that what you want to hear? My dick doesn't work. Completely limp."

"Calm down! I _know_ that's not true. Did you know Steve and I tried several times in the pool? I'd really like to do a steamy pool fuck at least once. Turns out cold water and hardons don't mix. But Maeve said she barely touched you in the pool, and your equipment immediately _reacted_.

If that story didn’t involve himself, he’d probably have some sage advice for Aimee and Steve. Now he’s just panicking. "She knows about my... the pool? She told you?!"

"Girls talk, Otis."

"Well, so what?"

"You need your own Otis, Otis. See, if there's one thing I learned from your advice to Adam, it's that sex has an emotional part for men, too. They're expected to just be ready all the time, but if their head's not there, it's tough. Men and women are not that different, in that aspect. Your head wasn't in it with Ola, was it? It was in the pool with Maeve.

You taught me that, Otis. And if you didn't have a blind spot a mile wide where Maeve is concerned, I wouldn't have to tell you this."

"That's... very insightful, Aimee." He considers her. "Why are you doing this? Talking to me? Helping me? You just said your best friend thinks I'm the devil incarnate."

"Because you two are impossible. You clearly are head over heels for each other. But you two always mess it up. You're the dumbest smart people I know.

See, I think I do get people, and I was right about you. It's just this spectacular inability to just talk to each other that got in the way. Again.

Maeve’s not showing it, but she's moping, like somebody kicked a puppy right in front of her. Just like you. So I am helping you because I need you to help me cheer her up."

"What can I do? She won't even look at me anymore."

"That’s what I like to hear. You hear she’s moping, and your first question is what you can do. That's the spirit! I'll talk to her. But you have to try too, alright?"

Otis wants to refuse. He’s tired of trying. And while Aimee might be Maeve’s best friend, she wasn’t there during their last conversation, after the voice mail, when she cut him down cold. He really doubts there's anything to salvage. But he can’t seem to bring himself to refuse just yet.

Aimee sees his internal struggle perfectly reflected on his face. She sees the conclusion emerge a fraction of a second before he opens his mouth.

"Alright," he whispers, and shoots Aimee a small smile.

* * *

Maeve feels weird, walking to Otis' house. She might not be as over Otis as she pretends, but finding him at his house isn't really at the top of her wish list right now. Still, she promised Aimee she'd make an effort, and Aimee's been nothing but supportive lately, so she's doing it as a favor to her.

She takes the steps down to the front door, and rings the doorbell. Jean opens the door, and Maeve immediately starts, "Hello, Mrs. Milburn, is Otis in?"

"Sure is. Who may I say is visiting?", Jean asks, already turning away from the door to fetch Otis.

"Maeve."

Jean had always been a proud, capable, fierce woman first, and a therapist second. When she realized it was _the_ Maeve Wiley at her doorstep, her therapist skills were overridden by her mother's instinct in the blink of an eye.

She turns back to the girl on her doorstep, placing her body back fully into the entrance, sending a first, non-verbal message.

"Maeve?" She half-asks, half-muses. "Otis mentioned you. In a way, I should thank you." She says this with a smile, but her tone is frosty. "After all, you're the reason my son talks to me again."

Then the smile disappears. "He has been quite withdrawn lately, and _because_ he talks to me again, I know that's on you. So I won't thank you after all, and I'm not sure you're welcome here."

"What? What do you mean?" Maeve asks, confused, immediately defensive after this unexpected accusation. First Ola, now Dr. Milburn. Why did everyone assume she did something to him? Was that _pity_ in Jean's eyes?

Jean considered her. "Communication is everything, dear. I know Otis can be awkward, but when someone sends a message that really bares all, and in response you cut him out of your life… Even if you didn’t like what it said, you shouldn't be surprised he's hurt. If you are as smart as he claims, you should've realized this."

Oh, so it's not pity, it's condescension she saw in Jean's eyes. She’s known for a long time now how to deal with people who think they're better than her. "Are you sure he's being honest with you? There hasn't been any message. Maybe you should ask your son _why_ I cut him out of my life, ask him what _he's_ done. I don't deserve this treatment. Goodbye." She’s done with this. Maeve walks off, angry, but head held high. 

Jean had hoped, had wanted to get the satisfaction of seeing this girl taken aback. Taken down a notch. For hurting her son. She should have known any love interest of Otis' would be made of stronger stuff. And she can admit to herself she’d just been petty, had handled the situation poorly. "Oh well," she muttered. Maeve was gone, and that's what mattered.

* * *

Otis knows his mum meant well. In hindsight he realizes, given what he’s been telling her, from his mom's perspective, Maeve is a lot of trouble. He mentally went over the conversations with his mum. Sex clinic, coming between him and Eric, coming between him and Ola, causing him much sorrow... But even though he has forgiven his mom, he can't help but despair. There had obviously still been a chance, given Maeve was willing to go as far as visit him at home. That chance has been expertly burned to the ground, now. He knows there'll be repercussions, and he doesn't have to wait long. Aimee finds him in the old toilet block, and he'd never seen her look so annoyed.

"You were supposed to make an effort! The point was you'd help me cheer her up, not set _your mum_ against her with stories! What is wrong with you?! Maeve was right, it’s probably best if you just leave her alone."

Otis can't help but agree. He drops his head back against the wall, closes his eyes, and whispers, "I think you're right."

Aimee considers him for a second, almost says something, but then nods once, and heads off.

Otis stays behind, just sitting there, on the floor, eyes closed, head against the wall.


	4. Halfway through the Dark

Maeve hears a ticking sound against her caravan. She looks out, and sees Isaac, flicking pistachio shells, of all things, from his armrest at her window. She gets up, and opens the door.

"You can just text, you know?"

"Needed you to come out anyway, figured I'd fetch one bird with a dozen pistachios." He grins, and she can't help the tiny twitch upwards one mouth corner makes at his mangling of the English language.

"Joe's made pasta and there's plenty left, want some?"

Maeve knows Isaac probably asked Joe to make pasta and then get lost so he can invite Maeve, but she doesn't mind the company. Or the food. "Sure, lead the way."

During dinner, they make idle conversation about their neighbors in the caravan park. Isaac knows some of the better gossip, being in his caravan for large stretches of time with nothing better to do than looking, and listening. Afterwards, Maeve clears the table while Isaac keeps the conversation going. "So I noticed you're spending more time in your caravan lately, is it exam period or something?"

"Not yet, no. No, it’s just, I used to run a side business with this Otis guy, but turns out he's a bit of a creep, so I had to shut it down. Doesn't matter, gives me more time to study and read."

“Otis? That name sounds familiar. I think he left you a completely pathetic voice mail a while back?"

Maeve feels a light shiver creeping up her spine. “A voice mail? Really. Doesn’t seem a good way to try to talk to me," She tries to sound like her usual uncaring self, but is sure she fails miserably.

Or not. Isaac continues, oblivious, “Exactly. I'm so glad you get that. Yeah, the creep was all you're awesome, I'm sorry, I love you, call me. I figured you didn’t need that, I just deleted it. Hey, did you want to watch a movie later?”

"Oh, no, I have to get to the laundromat tonight.” She passes Isaac on her way from the sink to the door, and pushes it open. “But thanks for the food, and the chat." Before she pulls the door closed, she manages a smile, although to her it feels strained. She hopes he doesn’t notice.

She enters her own caravan, sits down at the table, and tries to make sense of what she just learned. Obviously, Isaac has boundary issues. She doesn’t care. Compared to what others in her life put her through, it doesn’t even register. Instead of helping her, everyone just piles on more. Everyone needs something, wants something, lets her down. So what if Otis sent a voicemail? She’s done with him. A stupid message doesn’t change anything.

She moves to the couch, and picks up the book she’s been reading. After five minutes of staring at it without really reading anything, she gives up. She closes her eyes, but her mind won’t give her any rest. She was still a bit pissed with how Otis set his mum against him like that. Who does that? Although, if he assumed her latest cold shoulder was after he sent her an emotional voice mail, then maybe she can understand where that attitude came from… She growls in frustration.  _ Fine _ . If her mind needs to get closure to quiet down, then that’s what she’ll get. She picks up her phone and scrolls to ‘B’ for “Bastard” to find Otis’ contact. She wasn’t angry  _ now _ , but she definitely had been, and renaming the contact had been a small expression of her past anger. She types out a message and stares at the text for a few seconds.

[Hey dickhead, I didn’t get your voicemail, what did it say?]

No. She gets angry with herself. He lied to her. He humiliated her! He told Jackson what she liked  _ for money _ . Whatever he said in the voicemail, it can’t change what he did, and what he did is all that matters. She erases what she typed, and throws her phone against a pillow, away from her.

Although… She remembered the confrontation at his locker. She had been quick to judge. She never let him finish his story when she confronted him. But that was weeks ago, surely he would’ve said something if there was still something to say? But maybe that’s what the voicemail was for?

She let out a frustrated growl again. This was useless! Why won’t her brain let this go? So what if she didn’t let him talk? He confessed the important bits. But what she keeps wondering is  _ why _ . She doesn’t understand, and she desperately wants to. She leans over to the other end of the couch, fetches her phone, and types another message.

[Why did you tell Jackson what I like?]

Her brain calms down. This is what she needs to know; She feels that, if she understands this, the rest of the puzzle will fall into place. She stares at the message. She drops her phone on her stomach and picks up her book. She doesn’t even pretend to read, just staring at the ceiling with the top end of the book resting on her chin. She picks her phone back up, and reads the message again.

[Why did you tell Jackson what I like?]

She sends the message.


	5. Glue that thing back together

The next day at school, Maeve is already regretting sending the message. It’s the end of the school day, and Otis hasn’t replied yet. She leans against her locker, waiting for Aimee to head home with her, for a study session with the two of them and Steve, when she sees Otis heading to the main school exit.

He spots her, too, and stops abruptly in the middle of the corridor. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, taps a single button, and puts his phone away again. He looks at her, a weird look on his face, but when she stares back and makes eye contact, he looks away, starting towards the exit again. Her phone vibrates in her vest, and she sighs. Maybe he’s a bastard, maybe he’s not, but he’s definitely still Otis.

She pushes off from the locker, and marches in his direction. “Oi, dickhead! Don’t play games!”

He squeaks, eyes glancing over her shoulder towards the exit behind her. Then he straightens his spine, and faces her. “Hello, Maeve, it’s good to hear from you again.”

“I said don’t play games. If you can wait until you see me to send a message, you can tell me what it says, too. So, what did you just send?”

“I… don’t think this is a five minute conversation.”

“Doesn’t matter. I have time.”

“I don’t th-” he trails off. “Alright. Track stands? Where you organized the session with Ruthie and Tanya?”

Three minutes later, they’re at the stands. Otis can’t help but read Maeve’s body language. He’s sitting on the top row, she stays standing. He moved three seats in, she’s blocking his path out of the row. Her eyes haven’t stopped tracking him since the hallway. Like a lioness with her prey. Didn’t lionesses eat kangaroos? He lets out a laugh, and immediately cuts it short, realizing how that must sound.

“Something funny, Milburn?”

“No! It’s just… the way you’re standing there, your body language, us being here… just reminded me of a joke, that’s all.”

Maeve frowns and crosses her arms, but then seems to think better of it, uncrosses them again and sits down. She still leaves one seat empty between them. “Care to share the joke, then?”

He considers her. “I will, someday. You wanted to talk?”

“Yes. You just texted me while seeing me right in front of you. I’m not going to dignify that kindergarten shit by reading it. Out with it. What did it say?”

Otis is silent for a few seconds, looks at her, and then stares straight ahead. “I never wanted to help Jackson.”

Maeve is immediately wound up. “Are you denying it? Again? Is that your brilliant plan here? Because you can’t fool me anymore and if that’s what you’re -”

Otis nearly panics as Maeve’s rant builds steam, but he knows he has to make this count, make this work. “No! No. I did help him. But I didn’t want to.”

Maeve settles down again, but she doesn’t even  _ want _ to keep the bite out of her tone when she demands, “Explain?”

Otis takes a breath. “Jackson is… This is really weird to explain, but… Jackson is very different from me. He’s… charismatic, I guess is the nice word for it. I never end up saying or doing what I want, in conversations with him.”

Maeve remembered how Jackson ‘invited’ her to dinner with his mums, how he asked her to the school dance, and felt she knew what he meant. She nodded, “Go on?”

“He just asked me to help him get you,” Otis makes air quotes around the last part. “He thought that was what the clinic was all about. Shoved money in my hand and left before my brain caught up to the conversation.”

She frowned. “So because you had money in hand, you felt like you had no choice?”

“I actually went to find him, to give the money back, to tell him I wouldn’t do it. But the same thing happened. This is going to sound really stupid, but it is what it is.

It was in the pool locker room, and he kept talking about you like a prize to win, like stereotypical locker room talk, and I just got annoyed. I told him to stop thinking of you as an object, like an achievement to unlock. I told him you’re a person, with wants and desires and great taste in music and a gigantic knowledge of literature and an awesome dark sense of humor and… you get the point. For two seconds, I felt pretty good about myself. I thought I actually told him off good. But instead, he started taking  _ notes _ . Said it was great stuff.”

“That’s…” Maeve didn’t know how she imagined Otis helping Jackson actually had happened, but this definitely wasn’t it. But knowing both Otis and Jackson, now she could picture it vividly. And those were the exact things Jackson had been saying to her when trying to get her to date him.

“... surprisingly believable. Very Otis.” She sighs. “I don’t know what any of this means.”

“I’m starting to get a little lost, myself,” Otis adds.

They stay quiet for a while, just looking out over the stands and the field, both trying to figure out where to go from there.

After a minute, Maeve quietly says, “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain earlier.”

Otis really wants to say that’s fine, but he doesn’t want to lie in a talk like this, so he just says, “I’m glad I got to explain it this time.”

“Time! Shit!” She jumps up, and picks up her bag. “I was supposed to meet Aimee for studying! I’ve got to go.” She’s already two rows down, but stops and looks back at him. “We’ll talk some more later, yeah?”

“Definitely.”

She rushes off. Otis stays behind, with a small smile on his face.


End file.
